Conventionally Unconventional
by cryptictac
Summary: This is about the only way Thirteen and Foreman can stand House. House/Thirteen/Foreman. Explicit content.


**Conventionally Unconventional**  
by Ticcy

"This is getting a little too freakishly familiar," Thirteen pants around an aggressive kiss to House's lips. She's not talking to House, though; she's talking to Foreman, who's busy with his middle finger while he lies pressed up behind House's long, naked body. And what_ever_ he's doing with that finger of his, it's keeping House pinned to the spot on the bed with all the obedience in the world. Mouth occupied, ass owned, brain frozen - the only way Thirteen can stand him.

"That a problem?" House manages in a tight voice.

"Of course it's a problem. It's _you_."

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

"Believe me, it is," Foreman pipes up, and he does something again with his finger that makes House's mouth go slack. Thirteen takes the opportunity to bite his bottom lip, grasping his penis at the same time with equal roughness. All House does is let out a heavy breath, his lips parting just a little more in attempt to coax her back into another kiss. Except Thirteen has other ideas.

"Slow down. Wait there," she says as she pulls back. She rolls away from House, who makes a lazy grope for her thigh, and Foreman does something _else_ that makes House suddenly groan deep and quiet. When she returns to the bed not less than a minute later, Foreman is fucking House with two fingers and House has his face pressed into the pillow, gripping the sheets in his hand. The way his body is being rocked means Foreman's fingering him pretty hard, and Thirteen kneels up on the bed and draws the dildo she'd fetched from the drawer up her inner thigh to her clit while Foreman snags House's earlobe between his teeth in between a particularly hard thrust of his fingers. House is _almost_ attractive when he's completely useless like this. Not that she'd ever tell him that, naturally, and he's _nowhere_ near as attractive as Foreman taking charge.

Well. Until _she_ takes charge, that is. "Okay, stop that, both of you," she says just as House muffles another helpless grunt into the pillow. Foreman doesn't listen straight away and that's fine - she needs a few minutes to fit the strap-on around her hips anyway. As she buckles the straps either side of her pelvis and pushes the stimulating side of the dildo into her with a quiet sigh, Foreman pushes House, pushes and shoves him until House ends up sprawled on his front. He withdraws his fingers from House and Thirteen watches him massage his fingers over House's entrance before sinking them back into him. House tenses and turns his head on the pillow, then snaps, "Quit with the foreplay and get a move on."

Foreman rolls his eyes but moves away, and Thirteen shuflfles on her knees in between House's thighs. "You're such an unappreciative bastard," she says.

"You say _that_ like it's a bad thing."

Foreman tosses her the lube from the sidetable when she motions for it and she snorts as she squirts a large blob on the dildo. "Only because I hate the thought of wasting my time on you."

"The less you talk, the less chance you give him to be unappreciative," Foreman points out.

"_Now_ who's being unappreciative," House retorts. He turns his head the other way on the pillow to look at Foreman. "I give you your job back and all you can do is--"

Thirteen cuts him off with a quick tease of the dildo head up against his ass. Foreman's been working House's ass for a little while now, so the head slides in with just the right amount of ease to knock the words out of House's big mouth. "House," she orders after slicking a blob of lube up between his asscheeks. "Shut up."

She grabs his hips just so, forces them into position. And between a bite to her bottom lip in concentration and a shared glance with Foreman, who's watching her with smug admiration while he idly strokes himself, she pushes the dildo into House in a few firm, unforgiving motions. He grips at the pillow, face crushed into it again, and he's quickly meeting her thrust for thrust as she bottoms out within him again and again. The part of the dildo that's inside her rubs in all the right places and soon she's pounding into him, breaking into a sweat, face flushed, strands of hair sticking to her temples and forehead. She doesn't mean to climax first - she'd been trying to hold back - but as she hunches over House, a hand holding the dildo while her other hand is braced on the mattress for support, she suddenly gasps and slams into House as her orgasm hits. And just as she's coming down, House lets out a hitched sound and his whole body tenses, the muscles in his back and arms flexing while he shakes with release.

Thirteen pushes herself back onto her haunches, flipping her hair from her face. Dildo still buried inside House, she catches her breath and glances at Foreman again. He's grasping his penis, stroking hard and frantically with his bottom lip caught between his teeth. House keeps writhing beneath her and only when he turns his cheek to the pillow with a laboured huff of air does she withdraw the dildo. She quickly unbuckles it, gasping again as she pulls it from her, and completely ignores House while she crawls over to Foreman. She bats his hand away, straddling his hips, and takes his penis in her hand. She guides it into her and sinks down onto him, and immediately falls into a fast and hard rhythm with him. With a hand clutching the headboard, Thirteen throws her head back while Foreman grips her hips. She hits a second orgasm, intense but shorter, and Foreman guides her mouth to his with a hungry kiss. At first, she thinks the hand stroking her thigh and then her back is Foreman's, but she realises as Foreman starts to come that it's House's hand. Lazily touching, groping, trying to insinuate himself into the action because the bastard can _never_ go five seconds without being the centre of attention.

"Keep your hands to yourself," she snaps breathlessly at House once Foreman has reduced to little more than rapid breaths.

"My bed, my space," House slurs in that voice of his that Thirteen just _knows_ means he's going to end up sprawling himself all over her. "Therefore, my right to grope whatever I want."

"You're such a pig."

He just shrugs and takes a hold of her wrist. She finds herself being pulled towards him and she goes with a roll of her eyes as House drapes himself all over her. "You know what?" she decides after a moment of being smothered by House's body weight and Foreman shifting in close to sandwich her between their bodies. "Why don't you snuggle _Foreman_ for once? I'm sick of being the afterglow pillow."

"But Foreman doesn't have boobs." He suddenly grabs her chest. "Come to think of it, neither do you."

She slaps his hand away and manages to wriggle out from between House and Foreman, causing House to roll into Foreman's space. Foreman shoves him back with a look of disgust. "I'm _definitely_ not the afterglow pillow," Foreman says in a warning tone.

"Aww, come on," House says. "I gave you your job back. The least you can do is be a little appreciative."

"House!" Thirteen watches Foreman fight a losing battle with House, shoving him back frantically while House takes over his personal space. In the end, House wins and Foreman shoots her a glare from underneath the House-shaped mass sprawled on top of him. "You think there's anything freakishly familiar about _this_?"

Thirteen grins as she tosses the dildo aside and stretches out along the free side of the bed, all the space to herself. She hears Foreman exclaim, "House!" again. "Get used to it," she replies lazily. "His bed, his space. Means he therefore gets to grope whatever he wants."

"Not _me_, he doesn't."

She crosses her ankles and slides a hand over her still sweaty stomach. She turns her head and sees House with a leg over Foreman's thighs, an arm slung over Foreman's middle, and his face buried into the side of Foreman's neck. And Foreman's still glaring at her. "Oh, come on," she taunts. "Don't be such an unappreciative bastard. He's right; he _did_ give you your job back."

"Shut up, trying to sleep," House mutters, and Foreman pulls an annoyed face at what could only be the feel of House's breath hot against his neck. He says nothing, though, and when Foreman meets her eyes again she mouths, _I'm sorry_, around an amused smile.

_You owe me_, he mouths back angrily.

Thirteen tries her hardlest not to snort in laughter. _I will_, she mouths back. The corners of her lips twitch, giving her away, and she makes a 'cross my heart, hope to die' gesture with her finger against her bare chest. House starts snoring, Foreman scowls darkly, and Thirteen holds a hand to her mouth to stop herself from laughing. Freakishly familiar as this is getting between the three of them, something Thirteen isn't sure she likes if she thinks too hard about it, moments like _this_ make it worth its weight in gold.

**end**


End file.
